


In these our woods

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [22]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celegorm being a huge flirt what else is new, DWMP verse, Humor, M/M, References to guns, References to hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oromë takes Celegorm hunting for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In these our woods

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. This was a prompt, technically, but I've thought about this scenario a bunch so I was really just looking for an excuse.  
> 1\. This is probably the first fall Celegorm and Oromë are together after Celegorm graduates.

“I can’t believe you own guns.”

“I’ve found it’s hard to shoot things without them. Though I did try a compound bow for a season…”

“I mean you don’t strike me as the gun nut type.”

“I’m  _not_  a gun nut. Guns aren’t toys, or accessories, or a lifestyle, as far as I’m concerned. They’re tools. Dangerous tools, at that, and I only use them for hunting. The rest of the time they’re locked in my gun safe, unless I’m cleaning them.”

“I’ve heard it’s important to clean your rifle regularly.” Celegorm winked and braced the butt of his shotgun against his shoulder, more for effect than anything else. Oromë eyed him with some amusement. “Man, if I had this many cool weapons, I’d show them off a lot more.”

“I’ve considered that, but ‘large black man with guns’ is not an image viewed with quite as much tolerance as ‘attractive young white man with same’. Do you know how many times I’ve had the cops called on me during pheasant season?”

Celegorm winced. “Okay, point.” He slung the shotgun over his shoulder by its strap and insinuated himself against Oromë’s side as they walked down the trail. “For what it’s worth, you look hot as hell well-armed and in hunting gear. I think I have a new kink.”

Oromë looked down at the bright orange vest he was wearing. “This is what does it for you? Really? Well, I’m happy to wear the vest in bed, but the guns stay in the safe.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Yep.”

“What if I wore camo paint and nothing else…what if I painted myself with pheasants’ blood and put feathers in my hair…what if I posed provocatively with a compound bow…”

“Tyelko?”

“Yeah?”

“Hunting requires silence. Lesson one: shut up, you’re scaring the birds.”

Celegorm grinned. “I’m also turning you on, aren’t I.”

“Like you need to try,” muttered Oromë. “Check your safety, you rogue.”


End file.
